S K Y F A L L
by Palaemona
Summary: She belongs to the dead now, enslaved by ink and parchment. He laughs, and whispers in the darkness. "I love you, Ginny Riddle. You are mine now, with no escape."


…

**{**_ S.K.Y.F.A.L.L_**}**

…

She will never be free ever again.

…

She is snow white, haunting the shadows. The roof yawns high above her, and the wind hisses through the cracks. She's locked away, trapped by the ink. He's still here, watching her try to escape the coffin. Her hair hangs like blood, and her eyes are pools of ink. Her skin had grown so pale, broken by the veins that mark her.

She belongs to the dead now, enslaved by ink and parchment. He's still gazing at her, looking at her bloody fingers. He laughs, because now she is here forever and eternity, and will never be able to break free.

She still resists though. It's a shame. He had grown fond of her.

…

He writes with her blood on the walls. He calls her his. Ginerva Riddle. She shudders and flinches, but he only watches in satisfaction. "You will always be mine. There is no escape."

…

She hears whispers of life, still. She can hear her brother's rage and her mother's mourning. She can hear the stillness of Harry's breathing because he is dead. She is not living, but she hadn't fallen to death. Not yet.

The Snake sleeps in endless hibernation, until _he_ calls for her. Harry's dead body lies somewhere in the shadows, but she can't find it, because she's terrified of what she will find. Eyes wide with betrayal or eyes shut as is he too is in hibernation.

All she finds is blood, sealing his fate to death.

It's a shame though, that her fate is chained to something far worse.

…

Her lips still twist in the darkness, and she shivers from either fear or anticipation-she had never quite figured out which one. She still expects the horrid hissing leaking from her pale mouth. But it never comes, because the words have been stolen.

Her life is preserved in shadows, and she can never escape. The words will never be spoken, because she's so lost. Everything she had been, had been stolen.

Just like how _he_ had cut out her tongue.

…

Before he left her in eternal silence, she had begged. She had sunk to her shaking knees, and grasped hold of his ink stained robes. "Why am I here? Let me go, I won't ever tell!"

He had chuckled, his laughter ringing through the Chamber. He simply brushed her hands off of his robes, and shoved her away. "You see, Ginny. That is the just the thing. I told a foolish little girl my plans. I cannot just let you leave."

"I did everything you wanted!" She had whined, franticly grappling for hold within his robes.

She choked on her own blood as he cut through the flesh.

"Come now, it won't be so horrible," He had whispered softly as she screamed. "Just you and I for eternity."

…

He gave her, once, a heart. It's Harry's heart, so still she can no longer breathe. Carved into the horridly still organ is Ginerva Riddle. "One day, you will understand."

…

She tried to escape, of course.

She broke her fingers trying to move the fallen stones, trying to tunnel her way out of the cave in. He laughs, because it's amusing. She's so far underground, buried in hell. No one will ever find her, because Harry is dead, the two other fools died on the other side, and she'll never escape.

He knows, and somewhere inside her, she's knows.

…

When he kisses her, all she tastes is ink.

She's drowning in him, and she can't find her way to the light. She's gone, never to return. He laughs, because after every lie that she chants inside her head, even she knows. The scent of a rotting corpse had filled the room, and she chokes out her mourning.

He strikes her though, calling her fool to long for the dead. His handprints stain her pale flesh like ink.

"You loved him, didn't you?" He scowls with eyes fierce with rage. "Just like you loved me."

Sometimes she wonders if ink to courses through her veins.

…

"You are strange, are you not?" He muses one night. She says nothing, and pays him no heed. She's piling stones near the cave in, trying to escape still. Her poppy red hair falls in her eyes, blinding her for seconds. It reminds her off blood, gleaming crimson.

He kicks the stones, crushing her hand in the process. "You pathetic beings have lusted for eternity since man had proper thought. You try to escape your haven. I gifted you with this world of eternal beings, and yet you spit in the face of my generosity. I give your life meaning. Truest life in its purest form."

She cringes at his words, because all that she seeks is death.

…

Sometimes, she dreams.

Vivid colors burn through her soul, tearing her apart and leaving her for dead. She remembers her mother's red hair, and her father's bright blue eyes. She could recall the beauty of dandelions, so brightly yellowed it hurt. The poison green of Harry's eyes, stunningly like the Avada Kedavra curse. It strikes her down, and in her sleep she can scream. They are no more than memories of life, taunting her. She longs to awaken from this hell, and rejoin her loved ones above.

Sometimes though, despite the pain of being burned by the memories, she sings.

Her mother had sung to her, once. Or perhaps she hadn't. She couldn't remember much of everything now.

It's a mere blur of life, fading to the strain of death.

…

She writes.

Her blood is her ink, and she scrawls her words out on the walls. She has no light to see them, but she knows they are there. She can feel the anguish and hatred whenever she strays to close, and it rots her to the core.

She writes in her crimson blood about _him_. How she wishes _him_ dead.

_He_ is only amused.

_IwanthimdeadIwanthimdeadIwan thimdead. _

"I'm not going anywhere, Ginerva." He whispers in her ear, snickering.

…

"It's been a year." _His_ voice has grown sullen over the course of misery.

She says nothing. She can only say nothing.

"They stopped crying, you know. Of course, they mourn their precious savior. But you, you've been forgotten now." _His_ words are sweet like poison, but with the bitter aftertaste.

A lonely tear rolls down her face, and she flinches away.

"An empty coffin in an empty grave. You're better off down here. I won't forget about you." _He_ promises, and she cringes.

…

She had been stupid and foolish and pathetic.

She had been weak and useless and utterly hopeless.

She had written down her entire life for _him_, and gave it to _him_.

She had been so willing and allowing, so easy for _him_ to mold into shape.

She regretted and mourned and cried for the loss of her future.

She spat out bitter tears for the loss of the world.

She had been such a stupid little girl.

…

The sky might have been falling. Hell might have risen and swallowed the world whole. She would never know. She was trapped in the tombs of sin and Satan.

…

_He_ brought her a single flower, to mark the anniversary of her disappearance. It had a sweet scent, burning her with its life.

It's a simple Forget Me Not, and she chokes out a laugh of misery at its meaning. _'I won't forget you, Ginerva." _

After two days, it shrivels and dies.

She hates _him_ just a touch more.

…

_He_ tells her tales. He's been able to leave the Chambers to destroy every piece of the world she has known. "You're mother died, yesterday. Did you hear me, Ginerva? Died on her knees, begging me not to kill her."

She gives a jerky nod. Her tears had dried up, because she can no longer mourn. She thinks back to her mother's smile.

"I killed her. And your one brother. I believe his name had been George?" _He_ sighs with weariness. "You see, I have saved you. You will never die."

She swallows roughly, but nods all the same.

…

"Have you ever seen the sky on fire?" _He_ questions one night, as she traces her blood on the floor.

"It is beautiful." _He_ smiles, and slowly she smiles as well. She begins to paint fire burning through innocence with her own blood. "Like hell engulfing the world, tearing it apart in misery."

He stands in silence, and she sits in mourning.

"Maybe, one day. You will find its beauty."

She wants to say no, because she had already found it.

_(It's life.)_

…

"Bow down to me, Ginerva." He commands her, kicking her form.

…

She knows that in the end, she can never flee. She's been bound to _him_ by chains. Blood and heart and flesh lock her fate to his own, and _he_ can never let her go because she belongs to _him_.

She knows somewhere, deep inside her, she is living. Because her heart hurts and aches, and the pain will never go away.

It is just that she also knows that even deeper inside her, she is also dead. Because the numbness is setting in, and she knows it.

She's sleeping in a coffin of ice, and no one will ever find her.

…

One time, _he_ had been her closet friend.

She had scribbled her name as Ginerva Riddle once, accidently in the diary. _He_ had only written sweetly that he thought it sounded nice. _He_ asked her, if she would wish to join him.

Because _he_ would never leave her or forget her or ever stop loving her.

_He_ never had forgotten her. She doubted he ever would.

…

"One day, I will own your heart." He whispers in her ear as she fumbles with the rocks.

She hurls one rock as hard as she could at him.

…

She had wondered every moment of her waking existence, what life is life now.

She wonders now, because she is still a child. She wonders if life is preserved the way she remembers it, or if what _he_ says is real. If the world has died since her departure into hell.

She hopes and longs for her mother's embrace and her father's laughter. She misses the explosions from the Twins, and the rough hands of Charlie. She needs Bill's smile, and she wants Percy's subtle care. She misses Ron, because he came back for her.

She regrets his death most of all.

But in the end, _he_ whispers their deaths each and every night.

…

She is a no longer has a soul. She is a husk. A reminder. A tormented being trapped under stone and blood, trying to escape. He forces her to bow down, and she glares each and every time."

She had fallen headlong in the abyss; she knows she will never escape.

It's been two years.

She would be thirteen today.

He reminds her, of course. "A day celebrating your life, Ginerva Riddle. Of course I would remember it."

…

When she crumbles apart in pain, _he_ whispers sweetly.

"You will endure. I have given you life beyond lives." _He_ pauses, as he prepares to leave. "I still love you."

The sad truth is, her hate for him is ebbing away. Numbing to the course of time.

…

_He_ strikes her and kicks her, because she is nothing.

_He_ forces himself upon her, breaking her apart slowly. Prying back each part of her, he cracks her open life a shell, and leaves her lying in her own blood.

"Life has never been easy. I hope you had not expected the Afterlife to be an easier." He thrusts into her, and she squeezes her eyes shut tight.

Of course not. She was trapped with the Devil himself.

She spits blood onto the smooth stone floors.

…

_He_ gifts her with a mirror for Yule. Lanterns now light the darkness, revealing the blackened words she wrote with blood, and dead body of her hero.

It's worse now, with the light. She misses the darkness. She had never seen the horror of Harry's body, decomposing into nothing.

It's her reflection that breaks her the most. She is forever frozen. Never aging, never changing. It's the mere face of a dying girl, forever alive. Her face pale with darkened eyes. Eyes like pools of ink, and she's drowning in them.

She's eternal now. Eternal life, eternal punishment, eternal suffering.

…

_His_ touch upon her skin sent ripples of ink marking him upon her. _His_ kisses were rough and tasted like poison. She claws at _him_, breaking skin. She bites at him, drawing blood. _He_ is ink and she is blood. Eternal and forever, they will never leave each other.

She wonders briefly, what Harry would have been like to kiss. Because Tom's kiss bruise her and break her, biting at her lips. She returns the angered passion with hellfire, dragging her broken nails down his back.

"I promised you forever, had I not?" _He_ whispered after one moment, sending shivers down her spine. He spits blood on her face, and she bites hard on his neck.

She wants to growl out that he had given her hell.

…

She misses reality.

_He_ buried her in insanity.

…

She is a coward, but she will stand tall. The air hung heavy around her like ink, and she was drowning. It traps her like his arms, dragging her under to hell all over again. She knows that this is the end. It's a watery grave she's been struggling in, and each breath she takes burns her a little more each time.

It's a tomb she has been ensnared in, her grave. _His_ lies burrow deep within her, Harry's body slowly killing her resistance. He remains untouched and unmoved, because she refused to break his final rest.

_He_ created every moment for her. _He_ shielded her away from the war, protected her from death and saved her from living.

She swears now, she will stand tall to face it all.

…

"You will never escape, will you, Ginerva?" He lures her into the darkness, but she is fine with it all.

Her tomb is cracking and groaning and moaning, walls shivering with burdens none can describe. The world is unraveling, and she is burrowed at the root of it all. He grips tightly on her wrists, eyes wide with fright.

"You'll kill yourself as well, Ginerva." He has become frantic, shivering from terror. "I gifted you with immortality!"

She stands strong, tilting her head up.

"I gave you love! I protected you! I saved you from death! And this is how you repay me, you filthy creature."

'_You are a Weasley. You bow down to no one.' _Her father's voice whispers under the roar of rock.

…

Goddamn this bastard. She was dragging him straight to hell.

…

Maybe then she will be free.

…

The sky shudders, dark rocks crumbling with death. Hell roars around her, and he's screaming and she's smiling, because life is fading and death is departing her ever so slowly. She's finally reaching the moment of truth, of eternity and final rest.

She's freeing herself from the grave he buried her within.

...

_"I love you." _He pleads, grasping her hands.

She hates him. She will always hate him.

...

**So. I wrote this story, and then I forgot all about it. Go figure. **

**Anyways, I took the name from Adele's new song. 'Skyfall'. I hate Adele with a passion, but I will admit. This song is not the worst one ever. In fact, I'm fond of it. **

**Essentially just snap shots of her life buried down in eternity, with Tom as her captor. I have another story, called Casting the Flag. Essentially her getting revenge of Malfoy for giving her the journal. **

**I do write a lot of grim endings, mostly under Draco/Luna. I have one humor story I am working on, essentially the Trio playing Risk. I keep adding chapters to it though. **

**Anyways, enjoy. **

**Review?**


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